


do u like or like like me?

by Palisadewasp



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Awkward Boners, Bottom Richie Tozier, Consensual Underage Sex, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn With Plot, They’re 17 just to be clear, Top Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palisadewasp/pseuds/Palisadewasp
Summary: Learning how to love at seventeen is a big deal. Luckily for Eddie, he’s been practicing from afar for eleven years.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t write porn without a really long buildup to it. Sorry.
> 
> Songs: Like or Like Like by Miniature Tigers, Friends by Ed Sheehan, Pretty Girl by Clairo.
> 
> I wrote this in Richie and Eddie’s POV and Eddie’s version won. Not sure if I’m gonna switch it to Richie next chapter I’ll let you know when we get there.
> 
> Lastly, this is terrible and I’m embarrassed to post it sorry in advance

Eddie is sitting on a small boulder in front of the ledge at the Quarry, glancing down at his watch every few seconds.

Their little group has kept up the tradition of heading down to the Quarry in the summer for years now, and the summer before Senior year is no exception. It’s the last good weekend to enjoy the water before it becomes a bit too chilly to be comfortable. It’s their last hurrah, entirely, before school starts again, and Richie is running late, as usual. Eddie is always irritated by Richie’s lack of punctuality and he makes sure that his annoyance isn’t a secret. But everytime, without fail, he still waits for him to show up before jumping in the water. It might be unbearably obvious that Richie had him wrapped around his finger if Bev didn’t always wait for Richie, too. 

The others never slow their roll for his tardiness, though. The only reason that Bill and Stan are still standing on the ledge is because they’re both being scaredy-cats about jumping into the water, like they always are. 

Eddie is getting to the point where he might just push Bill or Stan into the water to end their debate on who should go first, when Richie appears a few feet away, making his way through the trees.

“‘Sup, fuckers!” He shouts, causing both Stan and Bill to jump in surprise. 

Beverly just flips him off.

“Is that Trashmouth I hear?” Mike calls from down in the water.

“Hi Mikey!” Richie shouts back, once he’s closer to the ledge.

“You’re late,” Beverly says, flicking the butt of her finished cigarette into a nearby bush, “And you’re wearing sweatpants.”

He is, indeed. They’re just a black pair with a white stripe down the side, but somehow he manages to make anything look good. Or maybe Eddie is just ridiculously in love with him.

“Trashmouth doesn’t get dressed up for nobody,” He shrugs, fisting a pair of swim trunks in his hand. “Nah, I just slept in.”

“Ah.” Bev stands, breathing out a little puff of smoke, before leaning over the edge and checking that the water is clear. “Look out, boys!” She shouts, red hair flying as she jumps. Ben whoops when she plummets down.

Richie clears his throat. “Stan the Man, Billy Bob, hold up a towel for me so I can get changed.”

“No thanks, I don’t want to ever be that close to your bare ass,” Stan waves off the idea, nudging Bill towards Richie.

Richie gasps, bringing a hand up to his heart. “And to think, the things I would do for your bare ass, Stan.” 

“Eddie?” Bill shakes out a towel and holds one corner towards Eddie.

“Fine,” Eddie sighs. He tugs the corner out of Bill’s hand and holds it up. 

Stan snorts to himself. “If there’s anyone in the woods right now, they’re going to be scarred for life.”

“Shut up, Stan, I’m gorgeous.” Richie ducks behind the towel and Eddie fights to keep his gaze far away. “They might be blinded, though. I can’t remember the last time my pasty ass saw the light.”

“Gross,” Eddie makes a big show of sticking his tongue out in a disgusted way. He can hear the ruffling of Richie’s clothes as he slides them off and it makes him go hot all over. It’s the same feeling he gets when he can hear Richie singing in the shower the morning after one of their sleepovers. His skin prickles with heat and he wants to kiss him so badly it hurts. It’s fine, he’s  _ fine.  _

Richie’s dark mass of hair rises back up over the towel in his peripheral.

Richie is very tall now, rivaled only by Mike who didn’t shoot up until a full month after Richie, ripping the victory right out from under him, as he so often complained. Eddie had no complaints, though, because he liked how Richie was the exact right height that when they hugged his head fell into the curve between his neck and shoulder. That’s not something that he was going to willingly tell anyone, of course. That’s one of the many secrets he keeps from everyone, even himself.

It’s horribly embarrassing, in more ways than one, that his only crush ever has been on the most ridiculous person he knows (well, and Michael J. Fox, but that doesn’t count). He’s had a lifelong crush on Richie, the same Richie that is grunting repeatedly behind him like he’s in some kind of porno, and Eddie is about to ask what the  _ fuck _ is going on just as Richie speaks up.

“Hey, Bill, do these look too tight?” He asks. All three of them look over their shoulders to check Richie’s swim trunks.

“Uhm—” Bill says just as Stan makes a choked noise.

“Holy shit, Trashmouth,” Stan splutters, sounding utterly astonished. His voice cracks into laughter. “I think I can see each individual hair on your balls.”

The shorts are  _ ridiculously  _ tight. Like, three sizes too small tight. Stan isn’t exaggerating at all. Eddie might pass out from a heat stroke.

“Like what ya’ see, Stanny boy?” Richie does a little twirl to milk the most he can out of Stan’s amusement. Eddie is just thankful that at least they go past mid-thigh.

“Where the huh-hell did you get th-those?” 

“Uhm, Sophomore year, I think? I just grabbed the first pair I saw.”

Stan and Bill cackle to themselves for a minute before Richie tugs the towel out of their hands and sets foot in the direction of the ledge. “Well, well, no time to worry about it, no siree! I have bigger fish to fry, now, my good men.”

When he jumps, he doesn’t belly flop, per se. It’s more like a back flop when he hits the water. The sound of Bev’s laughter rises up to the ledge.

Eddie cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Where’s an instant replay when you need one?”

Eddie, Bill, and Stan drop down into the water, one by one.

“Took you guys long enough,” Bev teases.

Eddie is swimming over to where she is floating next to Ben when something pinches his leg. He shrieks and starts to bat at it, convinced there must be some sort of piranha in the water.

It is, of course, Richie. His soaked curls appear above the water not long before the sound of his cackling can be heard. 

“Asshole!” Eddie hits him on the arm.

“You’re so easy to scare!” Richie giggles as he stands up in the shallower part of the water, causing Bev to gasp. Not necessarily in a scandalized way, but rather in a  _ ‘this is the single most amusing moment of my life’  _ kind of way. 

“I’m sorry, what the  _ fuck _ are you wearing?” She giggles, catching Mike and Ben’s attention.

“Richie’s a moron,” Eddie answers smoothly.

“I’m taking some pointers from Freddie Mercury.” He shakes his ass to punctuate his point. Bev whistles. “I pull it off, don’t I? I’ve even got the big buck teeth to match!”

Eddie tries, honestly, not to stare. He fails miserably.

“I’ve heard your singing voice, Rich. I don’t think you could ever pass as Freddie Mercury.” Mike says, floating on his back.

“Damn, there goes my Halloween costume.”

—

Things have changed since middle school. Ben and Bev got their shit together and are definitely going to be Prom King and Queen this year. Mike is a linebacker for the schools football team, so that makes him one of the more popular students in the school and it always comes as a shock to everyone when they realize he’s part of the Losers Club.

But Richie, he has remained pretty much the same. He is just as likely to have someone jostle him into a wall or dump something unsanitary into his backpack as he was four years ago. He still has a mouth on him and he still passes most of his time at the arcade. His grades are still straight A’s. He has changed in height, obviously, and his shoulders have broadened to match his overwhelming stature. His hair is still unruly and his glasses and teeth are still too big. 

Even though he’s still the same, he’s somehow an entirely new level of gorgeous. When they were thirteen, Eddie had thought he was handsome, albeit a little dorky and awkward. Now, though, his cheekbones had risen and his legs had lengthened and he was sharp all over, skinny and pointy in the prettiest way that contrasted with what his personality really was— bubbly and loving and soft and a bit obnoxious. He is, in all honesty, a  _ dream. _

Eddie is so screwed.

“Hey shortstack,” Richie says, using Eddie’s shoulder as a rest for his elbow. Eddie is out of breath after holding Bill on his shoulders for a game of chicken, but he wastes a bit of energy to glare up at Richie.

“I might be a shortstack but at least I’m not a lanky noodle,” He huffs.

“You’re not lanky, Eddie Spaghetti, but you are a noodle.” Richie moves away from his resting position to avoid further wrath. “I think there’s more power in being tall, anyway. Nobody ever fucks with a tall guy.”

“Plenty of people fuck with you, Richie.” 

“Yeah, like your mom,” Richie smirks, ruffling Eddie’s hair.

“That’s not what I—” Eddie gives up with a loud sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, if you’re so powerful, stop me from doing this.”

In one swift movement, he ducks under Richie’s arms and wraps his own around his lanky waist, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. It’s not a difficult feat, for as tall as Richie is he’s also very skinny, and Eddie is pretty strong since he started working out at the school gym regularly. 

_ “Oh,”  _ Richie squeaks out when his chest bounces once off of Eddie’s back. Eddie laughs at how he immediately goes limp against him.

“You’re not going to even fight back, huh?” He teases, but Richie makes no move to respond.

He lowers him down into the shallow water, proud of his triumph, when he realizes that Richie looks incredibly anxious. He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but then he sees it— The unmistakable, curved outline of Richie’s  _ very  _ erect dick.

“Oh,” He says instead, stupidly unable to move his eyes away from  _ that _ . 

There’s no air entering his lungs.

“Ha!” Richie all but shouts, tugging at his bangs. At least the others haven’t noticed the situation that’s unfolding over here. “Uhm, wow, it’s getting late!” He continues, his voice hoarse. Eddie makes a move to tell him that it’s fine, it’s not a big deal that Richie’s hard and Eddie is seconds away from drooling over it, but Richie starts talking again. “I forgot, my mom asked me to take the… the pork out of the freezer. I’ve got to go!”

Without another word, he turns on his heel and heads up the steep dirt trail towards where his bike and clothes are. Eddie shouts his name but Richie doesn’t look back once. He’s not sure if he should chase after him or give him space.

“Eddie,” Bill calls from the other side of the water, “Is ev-everything okay?”

Eddie stares at the trail Richie had disappeared into. “I don’t know,” He admits.

—

They only stay in the water for another half hour before everyone decides they should get headed home. Eddie hadn’t really been enjoying himself much after what just happened anyway, so he throws on his shirt and takes off on his bike, promising he’ll meet them at the movies tomorrow to see Jurassic Park like they’d planned.

Now he’s worried  _ Richie _ won’t show, that he’ll hide away until the first day of classes, and he doesn’t even know  _ why.  _ Sure, it was an embarrassing moment, but it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened. The first couple years of puberty are designed to torture boys with constant erections, and every time Eddie or one of the others had popped an untimely boner, Richie just teased the shit out of them and it was all good. 

Now, suddenly, it was a big deal? Worth running away over? If anyone should be freaking out, it’s Eddie. He hasn’t felt hot and bothered like that since Richie first shot up in Freshman year.

There’s got to be some sort of underlying issue. This isn’t something Eddie’s going to just let go.

He makes a hard left on his bike and pedals faster.

—

When he slips into the Tozier house, he realizes Maggie and Went must not be home, since it’s so eerily quiet. Usually, at the least, Richie is playing music in his room, but there’s not a single sound in the entire house.

He makes his way to Richie’s bedroom door and pauses outside. The air conditioning is roaring too loudly for him to make out if there’s any noise coming from inside the room. He sighs and pushes the door open.

Richie is laying on his side in his bed, swim trunks still on and creating a wet splotch on the comforter. He’s clutching a pillow to his chest and has his face mostly covered by it, save for his eyes which are peeking out at Eddie, red and swollen.

Eddie feels a bit like he’s intruding, for the first time in all the years he’s spent hanging out in Richie’s bedroom.

“Uh,” He mumbles, doing some uncomfortable wave before he pushes the door open completely. “The front door was open,” He says. “You really shouldn’t leave it unlocked like that.”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Richie says stiffly, curling his legs up towards his chest.

“That’s the thing about robbers, they don’t usually announce themselves,” Eddie jokes, laughing hoarsely before giving up entirely. “Are you… Are you okay?”

Richie blinks at Eddie. His stomach is tying itself into knots the longer Richie just stares at him. All his life, he’s never seen Richie stay silent for this long. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should just give Richie space. 

Richie doesn’t answer his question, but he does make a move to sit up on the edge of the bed, moving the pillow to the side.

Eddie’s not exactly sure how he expected this conversation to go, but he certainly wasn’t expecting Richie to say— “Did you tell everyone, then?” —in the smallest voice that Eddie’s ever heard come out of him.

Eddie gapes at him. “What? No, Richie, why— why would I tell anyone about that?”

_ “I don’t know,” _ Richie throws his hands up, exasperated. “I thought everyone would get together and make fun of the four-eyed fairy who popped a boner just because his friend threw him over his shoulder!”

Eddie’s heart throbs in his chest and he can’t help the way his heartbreak transfers to his face. “You didn’t honestly think we’d do that, did you?” 

_ Doesn’t he know we’re friends?  _ Eddie thinks, eyes burning. 

Richie’s eyes falter visibly behind his glasses. He stares down at his feet. “I— I don’t know.”

“Rich, we would never—” He sighs. What should he even say?  _ We wouldn’t hate you if you were gay? _ ...  _ Is  _ Richie gay? Is that where this conversation is headed? “So, you are… then?”

“I’m what?” Richie spits, far too viciously for the tone of the conversation. He stands up, entire posture defensive in a way Eddie has never seen outside of all the times he’s gotten into an altercation with one of the school bullies.

Eddie hesitates. “...Gay?”

“Would you have a problem with it if I was?” Again, with too much venom behind the words.

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Richie, we just went over this. Of course I—”

He’s cut off by Richie sitting down on the bed like his knees gave out from under him and letting out the most heartbreaking sound Eddie has ever heard. The thudding of his heart in his chest glues his feet to the floor.

“Hey,” Eddie says urgently. Richie shoves his face into his hands and Eddie jumps into action, sitting half in the puddle that Richie’s wet swim trunks had left behind. When was the last time he saw him cry? Sophomore year, when he got his wisdom teeth out and was in so much pain he couldn’t do anything other than nap and suck down Mountain Dew. Even if that wasn’t all that long ago, it is still far different from whatever  _ this  _ is. This is not  _ normal  _ Richie, this is a part of Richie that’s been stuffed deep inside himself for who knows how long.

Eddie puts a hand on his back and it’s then that he finally realizes how much Richie is shaking.

“Hey,” He coos again, like that will magically fix something. Richie doesn’t listen, sniffling wetly into his hands. “Come here.” 

It’s a bit crooked and awkward, but he winds his arms around Richie and crushes him against his chest. 

“I’m  _ sorry, _ ” Richie cries, releasing his face from his own grasp and wrapping himself around Eddie’s waist.

Eddie’s heart is shattering inside of his rib cage, crumbling into little glass shards that are cutting up his lungs. He feels like he can’t breathe. 

“There’s nothing to  _ be  _ sorry for,” Eddie says desperately, pushing his face against Richie’s curls. It might just be the most intimate hug the two of them have ever exchanged, which is certainly saying something.

“But I’m—” Richie’s breath hitches twice before he presses on, “I’m  _ gross. _ ”

_ Gross?  _ God, Eddie can’t bear to hear him talk about himself like that. There are a number of less-than-kind names Eddie has heard Richie called, and not a single fucking one of them is true. Aside from Richie being an obnoxious son of a bitch, but that’s beside the point. Richie is, without a doubt, the most wonderful person Eddie knows. He loves with every fiber of his being, wants nothing more than to make his friends happy, and is not even close to being something  _ gross  _ or  _ disgusting  _ (not counting the time he drank seven Blue Raspberry sodas in a row and then threw them all back up into the bathtub). 

The fact that he’s been keeping this secret inside for so long, thinking he’s gross, hating himself for it, makes Eddie ache with the need to comfort him. 

He takes in a deep breath and pulls back from their hug, surprised by the way Richie momentarily clings to him before relenting.

“You’re… you’re not gross, Rich.” Eddie’s heart clenches painfully when he remembers the spray paint by the kissing bridge that has been there for as long as he’s been alive, reading ‘STICK NAILS IN THE EYES OF FAGOTS (FOR GOD)!’. Knowing that it was something Richie had been staring at his entire life with fear in his chest, just like Eddie has all these years, gave him an urgent desire to convince Richie that Eddie was  _ not  _ the kind of person who would write those words anywhere.

What would he need to hear right now, in Richie’s position? What would he want the Losers to say to him?

“There is  _ nothing  _ wrong with you, okay? You like boys, that’s okay. It’s fine.”

For so many years, Eddie himself had been questioning the truth behind that.  _ Was  _ it really okay to like boys? Looking at Richie, though, trembling inches away from him, thinking he’s  _ wrong  _ or  _ gross,  _ makes him realize that there’s nothing with it at  _ all.  _ There’s nothing wrong with Richie being who he is because he loves Richie and everything he is. 

He looks up at Eddie with shining eyes, eyelashes clumped together by tears. “But I… I got…” He motions shakily at his swim trunks, then lowers his voice to a near whisper. “...because I like you.”

Eddie’s head goes still with white noise for a solid second before he is able to find his voice again. “What?” He croaks.

Richie goes so still for a moment that it almost looks like he’s frozen. “Isn’t that… Wasn’t that fucking obvious?” 

_ Obvious?  _ Jesus.

“Dude, I got a boner because you threw me over your shoulder!” Richie nearly shouts when he doesn’t respond immediately, hands flailing and chest rising and falling at lighting speed.

Eddie can’t help but panic more in response to Richie’s panicking. “I thought you just— I don’t know— found the  _ action  _ attractive not  _ me! _ ”

If Richie looked scared before, right now he looks downright terrified. “Oh God,” He whispers, seemingly mostly to himself. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

He clasps his hands over his face, digging nimble fingers into his forehead. Eddie, for once, is stunned into silence. 

“Please, please, please. Don’t be upset. I’m so sorry— I’m, I’m—” He hiccups under his hands, “I promise I won’t sleep in the same bed as you at sleepovers anymore, or, or, or hug you, or wrestle with you if you just— Don’t stop being my friend, Eds,  _ please. _ ”

“Stop,” Eddie demands, maybe a bit too harshly with how scared Richie is right now. But he just really,  _ really _ wants him to stop talking like that as quickly as possible. 

“I’m  _ sorry, _ ” Richie sniffles pathetically, and Eddie can’t bear to see him hide under his hands anymore, so he pulls them away as gently as he can manage.

“I’m not going anywhere, Richie. I’m not upset, I  _ swear,  _ I just— You really like  _ me? _ ”

Richie is so pretty right now, with his eyes all shiny and his freckles darkened from the hours of sun exposure. Eddie can’t breathe. It honestly can’t be true that Richie likes  _ him.  _

“Eds,” Richie’s voice is wet and shaky, “I’ve been pulling your pigtails since day one.” He offers the tiniest of smiles and Eddie beams at him in return.

“Wow,” He breathes, gripping onto Richie’s bony fingers too tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Richie blurts, like he can’t help himself.

“ _ Stop  _ saying that,” Eddie laughs, and Richie visibly stops himself from apologizing again. Eddie uses the uncharacteristic silence to observe him, the soft flutter of his eyelashes, the way he picks at the hem of his shorts, how his teeth sink deep into his lip to keep from talking. He’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, from every unruly hair on his head to his hobbit-like toes. He takes a deep breath, “I like you too, Rich.”

Richie blinks, shakes his head. His curls fly loosely around his ears. “That’s…” He trails off, looking confused.

“I do.” Eddie nods. “You honestly haven’t noticed?”

Richie’s mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and unmoving. 

“Eddie,” He says slowly, clear as a bell, “I’m saying I like you in a  _ gay _ way.” It’s comical, actually, that Eddie has managed to confuse him so badly that he’s forgotten all qualms he had over this conversation earlier. He doesn’t look scared or even upset anymore, just completely, utterly lost.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eddie laughs, then pauses and takes in the way Richie’s eyebrows only furrow more. He throws his head back and laughs again. “Jesus Christ, Richie, I turned  _ crimson  _ at the sight of your dick. That didn’t clue you in?”

“What.” Richie gapes at him.

“I’m going to say this  _ really _ slowly so you can get it through your head.” Eddie scoots closer until their knees touch. “I really, really like you. In a  _ gay  _ way. And I have since…” He scrunches up his nose and thinks, “Second grade, I think.”

With how Richie is looking at him, he entirely expects him to just say  _ ‘what?’  _ again.

Instead: “First,” Richie whispers.

“Huh?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve liked you since first grade,” Richie explains. “You yelled at me for writing ‘butt’ on the cartoon we were supposed to be coloring in.”

Eddie giggles. “I remember that, holy shit.” Richie is looking at him like he’s not real. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Eddie realizes they’re still holding hands when Richie squeezes his fingers. He squeezes back.

“You like me?” Richie sounds like he’s back in the first grade all over again and it tugs at Eddie’s heartstrings.

“What do I have to do to convince you?” Eddie looks at him earnestly.

Richie gapes, mouth moving but no words coming out. “You— I… We could—” He makes a noise that’s a mix between a groan of frustration and a whimper. “Would it be okay if I…?” He stops again, but Eddie is already several steps ahead of him.

“Yeah,” He answers— reaching up to run a hand through Richie’s head of curls— and presses his lips against the plush ones right in front of him. Richie is completely useless in making the kiss a decent one, just sitting there like he’s on pause— the only sign of life being him crushing Eddie’s hand to death.

Eddie pulls away. “Did I kill you?” He asks, only half-joking.

“That was bad,” Richie says.

Eddie blushes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No!” Richie continues frantically. “You were good! I was… I was…” He stops, and opts to finish his sentence by kissing Eddie like he’s never meant anything more in his life.

He curls his fists in the front of Eddie’s shirt and there, above his heart, Eddie can feel that his hands are shaking. It suddenly occurs to him that, though Richie had boasted a long time ago that he was kissing a lot of girls, this might be his first actual kiss. He bites at Richie’s lips and curls his fingers around his smooth jaw and tries his best to let him know that this is everything he’s ever wished for.

“Better?” Richie asks when he pulls away, cheeks a brighter shade of red than Eddie has ever seen. 

“Better,” Eddie agrees, kissing him on the cheek.

“I know you might punch me in the face for saying this again,” Richie mumbles, looking down at his lap, “But you’re really sure you like  _ me? _ ”

Eddie  _ does  _ kind of want to punch him, but he resists the urge. “If you ask one more time I’m going to change my mind.”

Richie stares, so Eddie rolls his eyes and says, “Yes, I like you a  _ lot.  _ I feel like my head is going to explode when you touch me and I’ve always wanted to kiss you, even everytime you got your lip busted and it looked disgusting.” 

Richie grabs his hand. “Is your head going to explode?” He asks, with a smile, and it’s the first time he’s looked anything other than confused or terrified during this whole conversation. The sun is setting and the orange glow seeping in from the window only serves to make his smile look brighter.

“I hope not,” Eddie whispers, leaning in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Are you my boyfriend now?” Richie’s eyes are wide.

“What  _ happened  _ to you?” Eddie is growing a bit worried. He expected Richie to make a sex joke by now, not ask if they were boyfriends. “Yes,  _ obviously  _ I’m your boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Richie says, mostly to himself, nodding and looking down at their joined hands. “Okay,” He mumbles again, face breaking into a blinding smile. “I’m dating Eddie Kaspbrak.”

The look on Richie’s face makes Eddie feel more treasured than he’s ever felt in his entire life. Looking him over, he swears he feels something click into place in his chest.

“I’m dating Richie Tozier.” He smiles, pressing a firm kiss to Richie’s freckled cheek, pleased with the way Richie squeaks in response, far from the sex connoisseur he’d made himself out to be.

Eddie finds that he really doesn’t mind this endearingly inexperienced version of Richie, the one who  _ doesn’t  _ talk about his dick 24/7, the one who curls up on his side in bed and asks Eddie to stay a while longer.

Then again, he doesn’t think he’d really mind any version of Richie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Look at me finally updating something!  
> This is my first time with smut so please be gentle with me.

Eddie isn’t really sure how he’d expected their relationship to progress from their first kiss. Richie had really surprised him with how soft-spoken and timid he’d become, and it seems as though he is only planning on surprising Eddie further. He isn’t…  _ not  _ Richie. He’s still his usual self, especially when he’s around their friends. But when they’re alone he’s quieter. Even more quiet than he was when they were alone together before they started dating. It’s as though some facade has broken down, and what’s left behind is a Richie that’s entirely exhausted of putting up a front. And even though it’s confusing to Eddie, it flatters him to the core that he’s the one who Richie has shown this part of himself to.

The others still don’t know, which was Richie’s choice. Eddie didn’t mind them knowing, but Richie needed to take things at his own pace, which was fine by Eddie, as long as he still got to kiss Richie behind closed doors.

And kiss they do. Eddie can’t seem to get enough the moment they’re alone.

It’s not always making out like horn dogs with their tongues shoved down each other’s throats. In fact, it’s  _ usually  _ not like that at all. The moment they’re alone, Richie turns on a movie and Eddie pretends to pay attention while he covers Richie’s shoulders, hands, and cheeks in kisses. 

Richie always giggles in response, occasionally turning to smack a loud, overly obnoxious kiss onto Eddie’s cheek. Richie thinks he’s being discreet, but Eddie sees right through it like he always has— Richie is wildly uncomfortable with affection, (afraid of it, even) and he feels the need to cover it up with jokes and dramatics.

It’s that which has prevented their relationship from progressing further. Eddie wants it, he knows Richie wants it, but anytime the conversation has shifted to  _ anything  _ pertaining sex, nudity, or even the fact that Richie got a boner from Eddie simply tossing him over his shoulder (which  _ really _ makes Eddie want to ravish him), it has promptly been interrupted by Richie doing something to distract it from ever happening.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t ever want Richie to feel pressured into doing something before he’s ready. The more they’ve talked about this secret they were hiding from each other for so long, the more Eddie has come to realize that Richie hid this secret from everyone— including himself, whereas Eddie had at least had Stan to confide in. 

(It had been a particularly bad day in Sophomore Year where Eddie felt that tight pain in his chest just from  _ looking  _ at Richie, and he’d broken down and cried when he told Stan that he was head over heels in love with his best friend.

Stan had just looked at him, blinked slowly, then said: “You have shit taste, Eddie.”)

Richie didn’t even allow himself to think of other men in a _romantic_ way, let alone sexual. So, it’s safe to say that he might not be ready for it, which is completely, totally okay with Eddie. He would wait forever, as long as it meant he got to hold his hand and kiss every freckle on his face for all of eternity. 

But all he really wants to do is have a  _ conversation  _ about it. To find out where his head is at when it comes to all this.

But he can’t do that when Richie is avoiding the fucking conversation like it’s on fire.

So, really, all of this is just a very long and roundabout way of explaining how they got here— In the middle of a makeout session, Eddie straddling Richie with Richie’s hands on his hips, both of them rapidly developing  _ situations  _ that will yet again go unspoken about, when Eddie pulls back and wipes his sweaty hands on the front of his khakis. 

“D’you need a breather?” Richie says, smirking up at him.

“No— Yeah… I don’t know,” Eddie answers, trying to put his thoughts into words before he just word-vomits all over Richie.

“Is everything okay?” Richie asks, visibly taking note of Eddie’s mental dilemma. “You can… You can talk to me. Shrink Tozier at your service.” He does some motion Eddie thinks is meant to resemble someone taking off their top hat.

Eddie blinks down at him. He’s laying there, face open and waiting for whatever Eddie is about to lay down on him, and it sucks all the breath out of Eddie’s lungs.  _ Of course  _ he can talk to Richie. Richie is his best friend, the one who stays up all night with him at sleepovers talking about anything and everything. This conversation doesn’t have to be scary, it’s just  _ Richie. _

“Do you want to have sex?” Eddie blurts out all in one go. It feels heavy coming out of his mouth, landing on Richie’s chest as he responds with a startled gasp.

“Do I wanna what?” He answers, blinking so quickly Eddie thinks he might be trying to communicate with him in Morse code.

“Have sex,” Eddie shrugs, shooting for nonchalant and failing miserably. 

“Have sex,” Richie repeats, emotionless.

“Yes,” Eddie answers.

“Right now?” He squeaks. So much for this conversation not being scary.

“ _ No, _ Jesus,” Eddie chuckles, but it does nothing to take away from Richie’s tense shoulders or pink cheeks. “Just…  _ someday.  _ Is that— Would that be something you’d like to do… soon?”

Richie closes his eyes, going from pink to red in a matter of seconds, and when he opens them again he just stares past Eddie, at the ceiling.

“I think so,” He answers, voice barely a whisper. Eddie feels a little bad for even bringing it up in the first place. He slides off of Richie’s waist, feeling like he’s killed the mood. He opts to lie down on his side next to him.

“Well, then we’ll wait until you know so,” He says, wanting to soothe him before he explodes. Richie’s eyes find his again.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, voice small and bottom lip trembling almost imperceptibly. 

Eddie swipes his thumb across said bottom lip. “Rich, I’m not in this for the sex, or the kissing, or even the cuddling. I’m in this for you, okay? I want you to know that.” 

Richie sucks in a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lips and accidentally swiping across Eddie’s thumb.

_ “Oh,”  _ He  replies, sounding shaky and confused. And then he does something he rarely ever does— He surges forward and pulls Eddie in for a kiss that would make him go weak in the knees if he was standing. It’s brief and barely scratches the surface when compared to their makeout sessions, but it’s heated and filled with meaning. Eddie knows that’s Richie speak for  _ ‘I love you so much’. _ Even though those words haven’t been uttered by either of them yet, Eddie knows it’s there. Which should be surprising, really, because Eddie hasn’t had the best example for what love should be like. In every song and movie there’s always that insinuation that when you’re with someone who is truly right for you, you just  _ know.  _ And that had always seemed so ridiculously stupid before, but now… now that Eddie’s put some thought into it, now that he’s been holding Richie’s hands and kissing his sweet face and dealing with stupid jokes on an entirely new level, he thinks he’s actually always known.

“Can we watch Teen Wolf now?” Eddie asks, interrupting his own thoughts. “You promised you’d watch it with me, remember?”

Richie raises his eyebrows, letting out an exasperated sigh. Eddie knows the warning signs of Richie’s high-pitched whining very well. “You tricked me, though. You promised me kisses if I watched it with you!”

“That’s not tricking you, dumbass! That’s called a  _ deal.”  _ Richie pouts over dramatically.

“But, you know I’ll do  _ anything  _ to kiss you. You  _ used  _ me,” Eddie has no choice but to roll his eyes in response. It manages to make Richie smile in that stupid way he does sometimes. It’s a secret kind of smile, and Eddie has yet to understand what it really means.

Sensing that he’s losing their faux-argument, Richie switches tactics. “You know, I’m starting to think you have a thing for Michael J. Fox. Last weekend it was Back to the Future, now it’s Teen Wolf…” He trails off, eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Please,” Eddie gives him a mean side eye, “If anyone here has a thing for Michael J. Fox, it’s you.”

“Yeah,” Richie agrees, faking sheepishness. “What can I say? That man is sexy.” He gets up off the bed to grab the tape and pop it into the VHS player. 

“Do you want to pick the movie next time?” Eddie asks, knowing he’s signing himself off to a two hour horror fest. God knows why Richie likes those movies, they make Eddie shudder.

Richie’s ever-present smile brightens. “I’ll promise you a lot of kisses if you let me pick the movie,” He teases, making his way over to the bed.

“Now that’s a  _ deal _ I’m willing to make,” Eddie answers, flushing from head to toe when Richie hovers over him.

“Ha! You’ll do anything for my kisses too!” It’s a stupid little quip, but Eddie can see the hint of surprise in Richie’s eyes. 

Eddie feels it, too, when Richie is blushing bright red because of something Eddie said, and it shocks him to the core that Richie finds his flirtatious remarks and constant kissing appealing. But what surprises him even more, is that he, himself,  _ craves  _ this affection on a constant basis. He wants to touch and hold and flirt and kiss  _ all  _ the time. In all his seventeen years on this earth, Eddie had pegged himself as someone who didn’t like to give or receive affection. He’d played into this role he’d given himself for so long that he’s been forced to entirely readjust how he views himself— his desires and his needs. 

He doesn’t get to finish watching the movie because he gets distracted by Richie’s lips halfway through. It doesn’t matter, anyway, he’s seen it all before. 

—

Baby steps seem to work best for the both of them. They warm themselves up to the idea of sexual intimacy by kissing more, worrying less (well, as much as they can), and trying new things when they feel like it. They kiss with their shirts off and give each other hickeys. One time, Richie even let Eddie touch his dick through his shorts. The noise he made when that happened nearly killed Eddie right then and there. 

It works well for them. He follows Richie’s lead and trusts that he won’t push himself further than he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for the next big step in their relationship to arise.

Planning a blowjob is probably not something most people would find sexy. Blowjobs are supposed to be spontaneous, like all those sex scenes in movies. You’re not supposed to  _ pencil in  _ a blowjob, that would be ridiculous. 

But when Richie pipes up halfway through  _ A Nightmare on Elm Street  _ to say:  _ “I kinda planned on sucking your dick after the movie but I can’t stop thinking about it so let’s just get a jumpstart on this,”  _ Eddie could not be more turned on.

He says it when they’re just  _ sitting  _ there, watching a very suspenseful scene that Eddie knows for a fact is one of Richie’s favorites because they’ve watched it together a million times. Albeit the momentary shock, he can feel his dick twitch instantly in his shorts. He hadn’t really been looking at Richie’s face, but when he looks over at him his cheeks are flushed red, eyes trained on Eddie’s in a way that suggests he hadn’t been looking at the movie for quite some time.

Eddie can’t resist a bit of teasing. 

“You  _ planned  _ on sucking my dick?” He raises one eyebrow.

Richie turns a deeper shade of red and tries to school his expression into a more neutral one. “Well, yeah,” He answers, lamely.

Eddie knows he’s really getting in the way of himself here, but he  _ has  _ to ask. “How many days ago did you plan this?”

“Like… five da— Hey! Why does it matter?” Richie asks indignantly. “I rescind my offer!” He tacks on in a goofy British voice.

“No, no, no!” Eddie laughs, rolling onto his side to get all up in Richie’s personal space. “I’m sorry! No more teasing, I promise.”

Richie’s smile glows. “I don’t mind a little bit of teasing,” He says, dropping his voice into a caricature of seduction. Eddie rolls his eyes, displeased with how his body reacts to it. Richie giggles and his momentary bravado slips into something a little more unsure. “Would that… Is that okay?”

“No, Richie, I don’t want a blowjob from my incredibly sexy boyfriend,” Eddie responds, deadpan. Richie blinks at him. Eddie still isn’t used to this part of Richie. This timid, unexplored side of him that shrinks away from any and all intimacy. It really is a miracle that he even brought this up all by himself, and so Eddie should probably reward him.

He props himself up on his elbow and places one hand on Richie’s chest, thumb moving in circular motions that are probably calming himself down more than Richie. 

“I’d really like that.” He smiles, and if he were an outsider watching this interaction he might roll his eyes over how corny they’re being about something as racy as a blowjob. But, God, there’s something about Richie that draws the corny side of him out in every single interaction.

“Okay, fuck,” Richie gasps, sounding completely taken aback by that answer. Eddie looks him over carefully.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, despite the blood slowly leaving his brain as the concept of Richie’s mouth on his dick becomes clearer and clearer.

“Yeah, I really want it,” He answers, certain. Eddie glances down and sees just how much Richie wants it, clear as day in his sweatpants. It’s like a reflex when his fingers jump to unbutton his shorts. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” Richie blurts, eyes following Eddie’s fingers. 

“Join the club,” He shucks his shorts off of his hips. It would have made more sense to take his boxers off with them but his tummy is suddenly twisting with the knowledge that Richie is going to see him naked. 

It makes him feel a little better seeing the way Richie bites down on his lip while staring at the significantly more obvious tent in his boxers. 

“Can I…?” He gestures towards Eddie’s waistband. “Shirt, too?”

Eddie nods rapidly and lifts up his hips for Richie to slide them off. He tugs off his shirt in one movement, and is immediately greeted with Richie splaying his hands all over his chest, clearly trying not to ogle the parts of his body he’s never seen before and failing miserably. Flushing down to his chest, Eddie distracts himself by tugging on Richie’s own shirt hem.

“Is this okay?” He asks, and Richie’s only answer is to lift his arms up to let Eddie remove it. 

The thing is, Eddie has stared at Richie’s shoulders a  _ lot  _ in the past. But now that he’s allowed to stare and be openly turned on by them— Well, he can’t help but lean forward and bite at the meaty bit between his neck and shoulder.

“Ow, Jesus.” Richie laughs, a little bit of the tension draining from him. “You’re insane.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, mumbling it into the skin there, pressing a kiss into it and biting gently at the skin along his neck. He doesn’t miss the way Richie shudders or how his sweatpants fill out a little more. He makes these soft little noises that sound a lot like moans that are being swallowed down. Eddie wants nothing more than to hear those noises again and again for the rest of his life. He presses a kiss just under Richie’s jawline, nipping at it once. 

“Shit,” Richie sighs, shaking himself out of the moment to redirect his attention to what he initially wanted to do. “Could you just, like, tell me if it’s not good?”

“Rich,” Eddie says, “I have literally no frame of reference for a good or bad blowjob. Just, like, don’t bite it?”

Richie smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Have you  _ seen  _ my teeth? You’re letting Bucky beaver put your dick in his mouth.”

Eddie cups the back of his neck and kisses him, licks into his mouth and around his lips and lets Richie do the same to him. “I fucking  _ love  _ your mouth, Rich. Your lips—“ He pecks him again, just to be safe, “—your teeth, your tongue. Trust me, anything you do is going to be just  _ fine.” _

Richie’s smile does meet his eyes this time, and a pink hue settles over his cheeks. He stares down at Eddie’s dick, like he’s studying it, then places his fingers at the base.

He looks back and forth between Eddie’s face and Eddie’s dick, saying “Just—” Before cutting off and taking Eddie into his mouth all at once.

_ “Fuck!”  _ Eddie borderline shouts, curling his hands into fists by his sides. It’s not like he hasn’t imagined what this would feel like many,  _ many  _ times. But it still is a completely unpredictable feeling, the way Richie’s tongue slides over his slit, like he’s testing it out. “Shit,” He breathes, nails digging into his palms.

Richie’s only halfway down, so he licks his palm and uses that to cover what he can’t. Let the record show that while Richard Tozier might be a lazy shit, he gets the job done when he puts his mind to it.

“Holy shit, baby,” Eddie says weakly, which brings the weird sensation of Richie groaning around his cock. 

Richie pulls off briefly, eyes wide, to say, “I have a  _ dick  _ in my  _ mouth _ ,” In an enthusiastically triumphant tone, which should be incredibly weird and  _ is  _ incredibly weird but Eddie can’t help but pant out a laugh.

“I think that was the longest you’ve ever been quiet.” He smiles, and Richie does, too, before he seems to remember what he was doing. 

It’s  _ hot  _ and  _ wet  _ in Richie’s mouth, which was to be expected but it’s not a concept he was able to fully grasp until now. And sure, he has very little experience to judge this blowjob with, but he still thinks he can tell the difference between bad and great. It feels fucking amazing, but it feels even better watching Richie enjoy it as well. 

Jesus, he never wants this moment to end for two reasons: One, he’s getting his dick sucked. Two, he’s watching his gorgeous boyfriend  _ get off  _ on sucking his dick. He thinks he might die, right here, right now, watching all 6’2” of Richie squirm against the mattress, poorly humping it with the limited space he has, his chest splotchy with heat. His hair is flopping loosely around his face, glasses sliding down his nose that Eddie itches to move out of the way just so he can see those big browns more clearly. 

“Jesus, Rich,” He says softly. Richie looks up at him over his lenses which Eddie tugs off and tosses to the side. Then, Richie grabs Eddie’s hand and plants it in his hair. “Fuck, okay,” He groans, weaving his fingers through the curls and gently tugging him up and down.

Richie moans, creating an odd vibrating sensation. He thumbs at Eddie’s sensitive hip crease and that sensation has him gasping and his toes curling.

“Shit, Richie, baby. I’m close,” He pants. Richie pulls off with a wet, disgustingly dirty  _ ‘pop’. _

“Fuck,” Richie answers eloquently, replacing his mouth with his hand and it only takes three more tugs before Eddie comes all over Richie’s hand and his own belly.

His brain goes all warm and fuzzy and he kind of just lies there, distantly feeling Richie smother kisses into his hip bones. He’s only snapped out of his haze when he hears Richie whine,  _ “Eddie,”  _ all sweet and drawn out.

He glances down, seeing Richie’s left cheek smashed against his hip, lips pretty and swollen. One of his hands is down the front of his sweatpants and he’s gasping, making the hottest noises Eddie has ever heard as his wet breath gusts against Eddie’s skin. Eddie wants to eat him alive. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Richie says in some strange cross between desperate and sheepish. He crawls up the bed until he’s laying on his back next to Eddie and tugs his sweatpants and boxers off in one go. He looks like he’s just run a marathon. “I just need to get off or I think I’m gonna die.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie answers, using what little energy he has left to roll over until he’s propped up in a position where he can kiss Richie and jerk him off. “I want to touch a dick, too.” He says. Richie snorts but it cuts off into a moan when Eddie places his hand on him.

“Oh,” Richie sighs. “Eds.”

It feels so good, the hard shape of him pressed firmly against Eddie’s palm. Every gasp Richie makes vibrates through him and he can’t help but take his time thumbing at the head, twisting his wrist around the base, feeling every inch of this new experience. Everything about Richie draws him in and turns him inside out in the best possible way. Every new experience with him feels like his nerves are multiplying, like he can feel every inch of his skin all at once.

Richie garbles something completely nonsensical, swallowing down another moan that makes Eddie want to press his ear to his chest and listen forever. 

“Let me hear those noises, baby.” Richie blinks up at him, bleary-eyed, almost like he didn’t know he was keeping quiet in the first place. Eddie twists his wrist at the tip again to show him what he’s talking about.

Richie rolls his head to the side with a soft, but considerably louder  _ mnnnn. _

The fire on Eddie’s skin flares up and he starts to babble. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, so pretty, you’re so good for me,” He only half-knows what he’s saying, just mumbling a clusterfuck of emotions in some uninterpretable jumble, but Richie weakly cries out in response and fuck, he’s never been prettier. His eyes keep closing in bliss but he forces them open every so often to gaze at Eddie through hooded eyelids. Eddie wants to kiss him all over.

He adjusts himself until he’s straddling Richie’s thighs and presses dirty, open-mouthed kisses to his sternum and collarbones. 

“ _ Please  _ Eddie, go faster,” He requests, his hands flailing around until they scrabble at Eddie’s thighs. “I’m gonna die.”

Eddie manages to reign in the giggle crawling out of his throat at how  _ dramatic  _ he is and speeds up his hand, watching in awe as Richie’s chest rises and falls like the cartoon heartbeat. 

He kisses Richie sloppily on the mouth, open-mouthed and wet. Richie’s cock is sticky and in this position it’s leaking all over Eddie’s tummy, and he can feel his own hand sliding up and down. It’s intoxicating, the sticky slide and precum catching in his happy trail.

“Richie,” He sighs into Richie’s mouth, licking into it and along the back of his teeth. He wants to touch every inch of him all at once. Even though he’s already had an orgasm he feels like he’s been lit on fire.

“Eds,” Richie answers back. It sounds raw and desperate. Eddie is in awe at how Richie opens up during something as intimate as this, how all the walls come down as his head lolls unabashedly to the side. He spares a brief thought to consider how far they’ve come in a few small months. His Richie, hiding and tucking away parts of himself in fear that it would expose this massive secret in his heart. His Richie, fighting against all his instincts to lay himself down, open and unguarded in front of Eddie.

His throat closes up and he knows he has to do something to keep his eyes from filling with tears.

Nosing at Richie’s forehead, he whispers “So gorgeous,” once more, because it seems he’s been reduced to nothing but a few simple adjectives and a slew of curse words.

He rolls Richie’s balls in his palm the way he’s always liked when he’s jerking off. Richie puffs out a particularly high-pitched breath.

“Fuck  _ me,”  _ He whines.

Eddie twists his hand at the tip and leans forward to tease, “I’ll fuck you if you ask nicely.” 

Richie comes like Eddie had flipped a switch, some landing against his sternum, the rest collecting in the hair on his stomach. He clings to Eddie’s thighs with a vice-like grip and twitches under him with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

They both fall quiet. Richie’s eyes close as he breathes through his mouth in pants. Eddie watches him cool down and his cheeks start to hurt just from smiling down at him. 

“Eds,” Richie says, reaching his arms out and making cute little grabby hands in his direction.

Eddie exhales a laugh through his nose. “You’re gross, let me clean you up first.”

“You’ve got cum on you too!” Richie protests, voice pitching into that stupid whiny voice that somehow gets Eddie to do whatever he wants. 

“Let me clean  _ us  _ up, then,” He says, rolling his eyes and shifting to get up.

“Wait!” Richie opens his eyes finally. “Just use the Kleenex there, that’s what I usually use.”

Eddie stands up and grabs the box off of the nightstand, shaking it around. “Jesus, Rich, it’s almost empty.”

“What can I say?” Richie says with a sheepish smile. “I’ve had to use ‘em a lot since I started dating you.”

Eddie freezes. All of the blood moves to soar through his ears. That comment alone is almost enough to start a round two. He’s  _ so fucking  _ in love with this man. 

“God,” He answers, garbled. As he bends down to plant a hungry kiss on Richie’s mouth, he winds his fingers through Richie’s hair and tugs gently to ease the tingling in his body. It makes Richie moan in interest again. “Fuck,” He mutters, stuffing his hand into the Kleenex box and tossing the remaining tissues onto Richie’s stomach. “I’m going to cuddle the shit out of you.”

Richie laughs, loud and bright, finally seeming to have enough strength to wipe down Eddie’s stomach while Eddie returns the favor. When the last Kleenex is— much to Eddie’s dismay— tossed onto the ground next to the bed, Richie reaches for Eddie again.

“You  _ promised _ , come on.” He’s pouting again and Eddie briefly thinks about how fucked the rest of his life will be. There’s nothing he can say ‘no’ to with Richie. Not when he asks like  _ that. _

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He settles in next to him. Richie immediately crushes his face into Eddie’s sternum with an eloquent  _ mmmphbt  _ and what’s left of Eddie’s heart promptly faints like one of those ladies in the 1800’s.

Richie’s curls spill wildly on the pillow and Eddie’s chest, so Eddie cards his fingers through them, righting each ringlet and smoothing his thumbs over every space in between.

“I was good?” Richie asks eventually, lifting his eyes.

“Was it not obvious how much I was enjoying that?” He asks, eyebrows rising incredulously. Richie draws back a little, eyes hopeful. Eddie pets at his hair some more. “It was fucking amazing, Rich.”

Richie turns red, like he actually wasn’t expecting that answer. “You, too,” He mumbles. “Much better than your mom.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, giving a gentle smack to Richie’s head. “You’re disgusting!” He groans playfully. 

Richie cackles and shoves his face back into Eddie’s chest. 

“I think we’re going to be spending a lot less time watching movies from now on,” He says. Eddie can feel him grinning, his teeth touch the skin on his chest.

“Oh?” He drapes his arms around his shoulders.

“Mhm,” Richie replies. “‘S gonna smell like a monkey cage in here. My mom’s gonna Febreeze the shit out of it.”

Eddie snorts. “Rich, I hate to break it to you but it already smells like a monkey cage in here.”

_ “Hey,”  _ Richie whines, “That’s just what a manly man smells like.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie giggles. Richie makes a funny  _ mphfbt  _ noise against his stomach, sliding lower in the sheets until his nose slots into his belly-button. “You are the farthest thing from a manly man.”

“I have chest hair!” Richie shouts into the soft skin of Eddie’s belly, indignant.

“You have, like,  _ three  _ chest hairs at most.”

There’s a long silence from him, and Eddie almost misses the quietly mumbled, “Four, actually.”

“Oh shit!” Eddie gasps, “ _ Four?  _ My mistake then, you are the manliest man in the universe.”

Richie pinches his hip. “You don’t have any at all, you giant dillweed.”

“Dillweed?” Eddie wheezes with laughter while Richie tries to bury himself further into his belly.

“Nevermind!” Richie says, laughing along. “I’m withholding any and all hanky panky until you apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Eddie giggles, sliding down into the covers until he’s face to face with Richie. “Please don’t take away the hanky panky,” He kisses Richie’s smiling cheeks over and over. “Now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’m insatiable! You can’t do this to me!” He cries dramatically.

“Stop, stop!” Richie laughs, batting at Eddie. “Get off of me, you crazy sex freak!”

“Nope,” Eddie replies, pulling Richie in by his waist. “You’re stuck with me, you maniac.”

“Okay” Richie says dopily and snuggles into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He presses about 9 million kisses into the hollow spot there before drifting off into a midday nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should the next chapter be Richie or Eddie’s POV? Let me know what you think!


End file.
